


Flying into the Storm

by LoquitorLatinae



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: M/M, Slight Canon Divergence, griffons are real, pre-DA2, pre-fenders - Freeform, tbaa glow bang 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-01 11:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8623372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoquitorLatinae/pseuds/LoquitorLatinae
Summary: Anders is sent out with Nathaniel and Justice by the Warden Commander to investigate a strange sighting in the countryside of Ferelden. Little did he know it would set him on a path that would lead him to a new friend and, in turn, to the end of the safe life he had carved out for himself among the Grey Wardens.TBAA Glow Bang 2016 submission





	

**Author's Note:**

> My submission for Team Blue and Angry's Glow Bang 2016 event! 
> 
> The "prompt" I was given was the beautiful artwork featured in this story that was created by the talented thepideon (Tumblr: http://piedpica.tumblr.com/ ). The story sort of, uh, spiraled out from there and this was the result (hopefully you like it, thepideon!). And because I'm trash I made it a Fenders story. Or a pre-Fenders story anyway (because I didn't have the time to fully evolve their relationship from strangers to lovers. But know that that's where it goes in my head). I'm also submitting this story in the eleventh hour of the event, so that you for all involved with your patience! It was a mad scramble for me and honestly I'm just hoping it's halfway decent. OTL

The day dawned crisp and clear at Vigil’s Keep, cold enough that it had Anders drawing his robes closer to him but not enough to keep him inside. It took a lot to keep him inside, no matter the weather. In fact, the more weather the better. He still took pleasure in feeling rain on his face; he had made his most recent, and hopefully last, escape from the Circle months ago but fresh air and rain still felt like freedom against his skin. Well, as much of a freedom as anyone could have as a Grey Warden.

Speaking of, he was supposed to meet with Elissa and the others about twenty minutes ago but had slept in. He half blamed himself, half blamed Ser Pounce-a-Lot because, really, he had no business looking so sweet so early in the morning. It would’ve been a crime to move him and Anders had been too comfortable waking in his warm bed with his cat purring away on his chest to bother.

By the time he arrived in the room Elissa had claimed as her office, everyone else had beaten him there. Nathaniel, already in his Warden blues, cast Anders an annoyed look as he strolled through the door. “Late, to no one’s surprise.”

“Fashionably so,” Anders winked. Nathaniel scoffed but Anders was convinced there was an amused tilt to his lips as he turned to look at Elissa. Elissa herself didn’t look too perturbed and merely motioned for him to take a seat between Sigrun and Justice. As he sat, Anders made a mental note to speak with Justice soon; Kristoff’s corpse was being to get a bit ripe again. Anders couldn’t fully stop the natural decomposition process but he could stave it off and at least make it more pleasant for those around him.

“Now that we’re all here,” Elissa’s voice cut through Anders’s musings and brought his attention back to their Commander, “I’ve received news that there is…something ravaging the countryside west of Lake Calenhad.”

Fear spiked through Anders but he hid it behind a smirk. “Oh goodie, my favorite place to visit.” It was too close to the Circle. He’d probably be able to see the top of the Tower from there. Far too close.

And he knew Elissa had already thought of that by the apologetic look she shared with him before turning to Nathaniel. “Nathaniel, I’d like you to lead a small party out to go investigate and, hopefully, deal with the problem. Justice, Anders, I would like you to accompany him. We’ve received reports that whatever this thing is, it can fly and has taken a liking to snatching up the local famers’ sheep. I would go myself but I need to prepare for my trip to Denerim.”

Anders heaved a sighed and leaned back in his chair but knew there were few good arguments he could make against it. Velanna had disappeared during the attack on Vigil’s Keep, though Anders would bet money that she wasn’t dead, but he was now the only mage that Elissa consistently sent out on missions. More so on missions such as this when they would be away from a village or a city and his healing talent might mean the difference between life and death for one of their companions.

He blinked as he felt a hand on the back of his head and suddenly he was being pushed back upright in his seat. He looked up and saw Nathaniel smirking down at him; he hadn’t even heard him walk up behind him. The archer gave the top of his head one more tap before nodding up at Elissa. “We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning. Do you have any ideas of what might be causing the trouble? If it flies, could it be a dragon?”

Elissa shook her head and a thoughtful frown pulled her lips down. “I don’t know. None of the witnesses in the reports seemed to know exactly what it was. If it was a dragon, I think they would’ve been able to label it as such fairly easily.”

Anders snorted. “Just because we’ve seen several over the past year, doesn’t mean everyone has seen a dragon before, you know.” Especially Elissa and Oghren who had faced down the blighted Archdemon with the rest of the Wardens not so very long ago and came out essentially unscathed. “I’d be happy never seeing one again.” Oghren grunted out an agreement from across the room.

“Even if they haven’t seen one before, they know what they’re supposed to look like.” Elissa shrugged and waved a hand. “If it is a dragon then you can either slay it or send word and we can send a larger party out after I return from Denerim.” Anders had to chuckle at that. Only the Hero of Ferelden would so casually suggest that someone just ‘slay a dragon’ as if it were a perfectly reasonable activity to engage in. “But if it isn’t a dragon then we may be uniquely qualified to deal with it.”

Sigrun perked up beside Anders. “Do you think it could be a darkspawn?”

“It’s a possibility. There are still pockets of them left from the Blight that we haven’t cleared out yet.”

Sigrun looked a bit jealous and Oghren grumbled out something that sounded distinctly like a curse and Anders agreed more with the later. Darkspawn made his skin crawl, even outside of the Deep Roads. The way they felt—not physically, but in his head—was disturbing, like there were hundreds of tiny spiders crawling around in his body. Poisonous spiders. That would one day kill him if he didn’t die of something else first. What a thing to look forward to.

After that, Elissa ran though a briefing of more mundane Keep matters, most of which Anders tuned out. His thoughts lingered instead on his upcoming mission and the potions and salves he would need to prepare for the trip. If they would really be facing a dragon, he had a lot of work to do.

 

It was no easier to wake up the next morning than it had been the morning previous but this time around Anders knew he couldn’t allow himself the luxury of sleeping in. Nathaniel would have his hide or, rather, complain about it and have an even bigger stick up his ass than normal, and Justice would level him with disapproving looks and warnings of giving in to sloth. Neither of which Anders wanted to put up with for the week or so in total that they would likely be traveling.

Pounce seemed confused as to why he was rousing himself before the sun but Anders would swear to Andraste that as soon as the kitten saw him reach for his Warden uniform he understood. He was remarkably smart and Anders told him so as he dressed. “Aren’t you just the cleverest thing? Yes you are! Now, I’m going to leave for a bit, Pounce, and I want you to stay here. It’s too cold for you this time of year, I wouldn’t want you freezing!” But mostly he didn’t want to bring Ser Pounce-a-Lot that close to the Circle. It was silly perhaps, but if he _was_ recaptured there was no way in Thedas that he would let the cat be abducted too. Or worse: if Templars snatched him, realized how much the kitten meant to him, and were particularly terrible they might kill him then and there just to prove some sick point.

Pounce blinked up at him with a pitiful _mew_ and Anders bit his lip. “No, you won’t convince me. This is for your own good, you know. Just because I have to go doesn’t mean you should have to suffer. You’ll stay here and be in charge of reducing the Keep’s mouse population while I’m away. Can I trust you to perform your duty honorably? In peace, vigilance and such.”

Pounce responded with a firm _mrow_ and Anders nodded, satisfied. “Good.”

 Anders offered Pounce once more scratch behind his ears before he pulled himself away.

Nathaniel and Justice were waiting for him at the Keep’s main gate and they set off once all three of them had made sure they were fully stocked for the trip. They traveled on foot—they hadn’t found a horse yet that would allow Justice to ride it—but Anders didn’t mind walking. It was refreshing, though it did mean that there was a lot of time to fill with conversation. Once he warmed up a bit, Nathaniel wasn’t actually a bad traveling companion. Justice on the other hand…still needed a bit of practice in the art of casual banter. Not that Nathaniel helped on that front.

Anders rolled his eyes as Nathaniel ramped up again on a topic that they had beaten to death the hour before. It was well into the afternoon but not quite late enough to be having as deep a conversation as Nathaniel was after with Justice.

Ahead of him, Nathaniel waved a hand toward Justice. “I’m simply saying that you may find yourself needing to switch bodies, Justice. Kristoff’s will only continue to grow worse.” Something Anders found himself unable to refute. Not that he planned to insert himself into this particular conversation either way.

Justice’s decaying brow furrowed. “Would switching to a new body not inevitably lead to the same result?”

“Not if you possessed a living body.”

Justice’s milky eyes narrowed further. “I would never do such a thing; it is an act for demons.”

“What if the person were willing?”

“It is…something to consider. I had not thought such a thing possible.”

“What do you think, Anders? You must have some opinion.”

Anders had started when Nathaniel spoke his name, having been drifting from their conversation. He knew why Nathaniel thought he must have some sort of opinion: as a Spirit Healer, he regularly interacted with Fade spirits. But this wasn’t really his area of expertise. He’d never seen a spirit like Justice physically emerge from the Fade before. He’d only seen demons do that and when that happened, well… “All I’ll say is that he’ll have to do something soon because poor Kristoff’s limbs are bound to start falling off. At a certain point, we’ll have to find a necromancer to sustain him instead of me because there will be nothing left but bone.”

Nathaniel pulled a face. “That’s rather morbid.”

“You started it.” Really, where else had Nathaniel thought Anders would take that conversation? He was the one who had to patch Justice up every time his paper-thin skin got a new tear in it or a particular muscle group became too lax.

Luckily that essentially ended that line of thought and they moved on to the next. They carried on in a lighter vein until the sun set. They made camp once it got dark and Anders entertained them as they ate dinner with a story about when he had tried to escape the Tower by swimming across Lake Calenhad. It was only funny because he was free from the Circle _now_ and because he stopped the story before it got to the part where, as a twelve-year-old boy, he had been beaten bloody for it. That would’ve hardly made for a good bedtime story.

The next day went much the same, except the joy of being out from behind four walls began to fade into nerves as they continued west toward Lake Calenhad. Anders had lost the humor to be able to entertain Nathaniel and Justice—even though he knew that they would say he was hardly entertaining the first night—and was therefore relieved when they stumbled into a small village near nightfall. Well, “stumbled into” wasn’t quite correct. Nathaniel had apparently planned it all along but just failed to share the good news with Anders.

The village was just big enough to host an inn and little else. They had been prepared to pay for their room and board but the innkeeper’s daughter had an injured leg and Anders had happily healed her in return for a bed for the night. Of course, he would have healed the girl regardless of whether they got a free room out of the deal but he wasn’t about to turn it down when it was offered to him. And it was refreshing to have an audience who was impressed by his skill—the Wardens were too used to his presence and abilities by now—and he put an extra little flourish in as he worked.

The townspeople also provided them with the clue they needed to find the monster they were after. From the village, they had less of a day left to travel to the last known sighting of the mysterious beast so all three of them were asking everyone they could see about it. Unsurprisingly, the people Justice spoke too weren’t terribly forthcoming, distracted as they were by the sunken eyes and scent. Anders didn’t get too far either; after he had healed the young girl he’d had a small crowd of admirers he was all too happy to indulge with small spells and flirty winks. Luckily for all involved Nathaniel was his usual no-nonsense self. He hadn’t even finished asking the innkeeper if he knew its whereabouts before the man was sketching out a crude map for them.

It was probably for the best that none of Anders flirtations got him anywhere because they rose early the next morning from their very comfortable beds and set back out on the road. They were close now. Very close. And not just to the mystery beast…

They had been walking for about two hours Anders happened to look up and froze. Over the tree line he could see it: the top of the Circle Tower. A bone-deep shudder ran through him and he subconsciously moved to wrap his fingers around his staff where it was strapped to his back. The subtle action drew Justice’s attention and he frowned at Anders in confusion. “Do you sense danger, healer?”

“Ah, hah…” Realizing what he was doing, Anders forced himself to release his grip on his staff. “You could say so, though, no, I don’t feel any immediate danger. Just bad memories.”

“If they are a distraction it would be best not to dwell on them.”

“If only it were that easy...” His visceral reaction to seeing the Circle Tower was far more disturbing to him than it was to Justice but it wasn’t just something he could turn off.

Nathaniel glanced back at Anders then scanned the horizon line. He had turned his face away but Anders knew from the tightening in his shoulders that the man understood when he too caught sight of the Tower. But instead of mentioning it, Nathaniel motioned for them to turn left, into the woods, putting the Tower at their backs. “Come; according to the innkeeper’s map, we should begin heading south now. The caves he said the beast lives in should be up ahead.”

Anders had never been happier to have a redirect and eagerly followed Nathaniel off the path. The three of them hiked through the trees and brush for about an hour more and just when Anders was beginning to think that the innkeeper had sent them out on a wild goose-chase the landscape began to shift. Bedrock outcrops began to appear, the trees thinned out, and then a tall, rocky ridgeline rose up in front of them. The face of the ridge was formed by exposed rock and, just where it was supposed to be, a cave was embedded in the rock.

The opening appeared to be almost eight feet tall and nearly as wide; not large enough for a high dragon but more than big enough for just about anything else. Slowing as they drew closer, Nathaniel looked back at Anders and Justice and then at his nod they all drew their weapons. Justice, with his mace and shield, took the lead with Nathaniel following closely with his bow drawn and then Anders, staff in hand.

It was silent as they approached but Anders had the distinct impression that something was inside. Thankfully not a Darkspawn though. His skin wasn’t crawling like it would be if that were the case. But that still left the very real possibility that it was small dragon. Or a nest of giant spiders. Or a great bear. Or something else equally horrific. Whatever it was, he was happy to let Justice go first and take the brunt of any impending attack. Most of the nerves in poor Kristoff’s body were dead anyhow.

They proceeded cautiously. Light filtered in softly from the cave’s opening but Anders lit a small ball of veil fire in his hand to help them navigate deeper inside. About thirty feet in, the walls and ceiling widened a bit and he knew they were getting close. Mentally prepared for the worst, Anders was taken entirely off-guard by the sight that met them as they slunk around a corner and found what seemed to be the beast’s nest. And the beast itself.

Anders’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of it. It was a large, at least as tall as Anders and twice that in length, and covered in white gold feathers. It seemed to have the body of a lion but had the head, talons, and huge wings of a bird of prey, a long feathered tail curled around it. And it was awake and alert, sharp golden eyes pinning all three of them with a suspicious look as they dumbly stared back, it’s head cocking to the side as the veil fire extinguished in Anders’s hand.

Nathaniel was the first to speak, the archer’s shocked gaze locked on the animal. “What is it?”

He had kept his voice soft but Justice answered back at his normal volume, his words booming in the relative silence and making the feathers ruffle up around the animal’s neck. “It is a griffon. A winged beast that I have read the Grey Warden order once used as mounts.”

Oh. Right. They all had depictions of it on their armor. Anders released a tight, quiet laugh. “I see someone’s been spending too much time in the Keep’s library.”

“Wisdom is a virtue; overindulgence in knowledge is an acceptable diversion.”

Nathaniel interrupted, his hand tightening on his bow. “Let’s focus on the matter at hand, shall we? If this beast is the one we’ve been sent to find, it’s no wonder that the local townsfolk weren’t certain how to label it.”

“Look there,” Anders motioned with his staff to one of the cave walls where a small pile of bones had gathered, each picked clean of any meat they once held. “It must be a carnivore and has been snatching up sheep to keep itself fed.”

Nathaniel nodded. “One of us should approach it. If all three of us go at once we may startle it.”

The griffon’s ear flickered back, as if it were listening to them and Anders smirked. “Well we certainly shouldn’t send Justice, am I right? Given his effect on animals?” He laughed a bit to himself then realized that Nathaniel was looking at him expectantly and swore. “Oh, blast it…”

He shrugged and waved Anders forward. “You’re good with animals.”

“I’m good with _cats_.” Anders protested even as he inched forward, passed Nathaniel and Justice, and reluctantly closer to the griffon.

“It’s part cat. Just be careful. Never mind the beak, look at its claws; it could maul you to death in seconds.”

Anders grimaced as his eyes darted down to its taloned feet. Each of its claws looks like a foot-long curved blade and he had no doubt that Nathaniel was right about that. “You realize you’re not making this easier for me….”

A gaveled chirp rumbled from the griffon’s throat and its beak clacked as it opened then closed again. Anders had flinched back at the motion but steeled himself, tightened his grip on his staff, and continued forward. Swallowing, he smiled at it and lifted his free hand up in what he hoped was a placating gesture. “Hello there. Easy. There we are. If I speak to you in a gentle voice, you’ll know I don’t mean you any harm.”

The griffon tilted its head, eyeing Anders carefully, then chirped again and lowered its head in what Anders hoped was a signal that he wasn’t about to be torn to shreds. Reaching out, Anders smiled again and ever-so-gently stroked the feathers at the top of the griffon’s head. Its gold eyes flickered up to where Anders was touching it then closed them and heaved a heavy breath. Anders did the same, releasing a sigh of relief, and grinned back at Nathaniel and Justice. “Aren’t you precious? Nate, I think he likes me.”

“ _Someone_ has to, I suppose.” Despite his words, Nathaniel looked equally relieved and he and Justice slowly approached as Anders moved to scratch behind the griffon’s ears.

The pets drew a sound that could only be described as a purr from the griffon and Anders scooted closer to get a better look at it. “He has a saddle on, and reins. Do you think there is a rider somewhere?”

Finally close enough, Nathaniel placed a careful hand on the griffon’s wing. It twitched but allowed the contact and Nathaniel looked around the cave as he gently stroked one of the long cream-colored feathers. “I don’t see any signs of anyone about. Surely no one would abandon a mount such as this.”

“Well we certainly won’t. We’re bringing it back to Vigil’s Keep, right?”

“Of course. It’s a griffon and we’re Grey Wardens. As Justice so helpfully pointed out, they are legendary mounts, therefore I figure that it’s essentially ours.”

“Sometimes I appreciate the way you think, Nate,” Anders grinned.

Nathaniel scoffed and let Anders reach out and grab the griffon’s reins. It was reluctant to rise at first but after a few insistent tugs from Anders it let out a screech but rose to its feet. Despite its noise of protest it seemed docile enough and perfectly used to being led around by its reins as Anders guided it out behind them. The griffon was even more intimidating when it stood, towering over all of them as it fluffed out its wings, and it was a good reminder that, as tame as it seemed, he should keep an eye on those talons.

But, still…Anders grinned up at Nathaniel, “Can we have it fly us back to Vigil’s Keep?”

“No, we’ll walk back.”

Rolling his eyes, Anders reached up and smoothed a hand down the feathers on its neck. “You ruin all the fun.” The saddle the griffon wore looked perfectly functional and it was a shame not to put it to use.

But Nathaniel remained firm with the air of an exasperated parent. “We don’t know how it flies and even if we did deem it safe the three of us surely wouldn’t be able to all ride.”

He had him there. “Well, I don’t think he’ll let Justice on anyway so that only the two of us we have to worry about.” Justice frowned up at the griffon, assessing it, and the griffon seemed to stare back with an equal intensity.

“No, Anders.”

“Dream killer.”

It was a bit slow-going with their newest party member since Nathaniel decided that they needed to walk. Occasionally the griffon would stop to inspect a flower or chase after a fennec and there was nothing Anders could do but hang on to the reins and try and tug it back in the right direction. But they finally made it back to the main road which made things a bit easier as there was less immediately about them to distract the beast. Anders thought it was a blessing until a sickening familiar sound caught his attention.

It was nearly inaudible but Anders had trained himself long ago to recognize what it was: the sound of soldiers in armor coming up the road behind them. And when he looked back over his shoulder he once again saw the Circle Tower looming above the trees and he felt his blood freeze. It was Templars. “Bollocks! Templars are coming. Get off the road!”

He had already begun to veer off of the road back into the woods but Nathaniel threw out his arm and stopped him in his tracks. “No, don’t run. We have every right to be here. You’re a Grey Warden now and they will respect it.”

Anders felt his heart rate increasing like a frightened rabbit’s, his grip tightening on the griffon’s reins until his knuckles turned white. “You’ve clearly never been on the wrong end of a Templar blade before.”

Despite Anders’s muttered words, Nathaniel and Justice both resolutely remained on the path and Anders reluctantly followed.

Templars weren’t necessarily known for their speed when they traveled in a unit but Anders kept a sharp ear out and his heart sank as he heard them growing closer and closer until he glanced over his shoulder and, sure enough, there was a small unit of Templars marching toward them. He must have made a sound because Nathaniel and Justice both turned and when they spotted the Templars Nathaniel motioned for them to stop. Unfortunately, the Templars didn’t do the same.

Within a minute, the Templars had caught up and by the serious expression on their faces they were there to do business. After the initial shock and confusion at seeing a supposedly mythical beast wore off their faces. Maybe they were less surprised to see Grey Wardens with a griffon than Anders, Nathaniel, and Justice were to find one.

Nathaniel stepped forward and a second later Justice did the same, the two forming a sort of barrier between Anders and the Templars. He was immensely grateful but he still slid closer to the griffon, putting the beast between himself and the soldiers. The griffon’s ears flickered back and his wings fluffed before it turned its sharp golden eyes on the Templars as they called out, “Halt! A report reached us of a known apostate having been sighted in this area performing magic.”

Part of Anders wanted to light them on fire, part of Anders wanted to cry, but he settled on an exaggerated picture of innocence. “Apostate?” Pressing his free hand against his chest, he raised his brows in shock and looked at Justice then Nathaniel. “Have either have you seen an apostate? I haven’t, that’s for certain.”

The Templar leading the pack scowled at him and Anders had a nauseating feeling that they had met before. “Strange. Because you’re carrying a staff and fit his description perfectly.”

So they were after him then. Anders stiffened but it was Nathaniel who spoke next, his voice firm and every ounce the noble his family had once represented. “Anders has been recruited into the Grey Wardens; you no longer have jurisdiction over him.”

“The Blight is over so Grey Wardens don’t have jurisdiction over anything. He’s a runaway apostate and a murderer and you will hand him over immediately.”

Anders winced at the ‘murderer’ accusation but, again, someone spoke on his behalf only this time it was Justice. “You are being unjust in your anger. Anders is a free man now among the Wardens and his freedom will be respected.”

“I’m not going to ask again. Hand the mage over to us and no one gets hurt.”

That startled a laugh out of Anders, strained though it was. “Right, except for me.”

He wasn’t sure who reached for their weapon first but in the blink of an eye the Templars’ hands were all on their swords, Nathaniel had his bow out and drawn, and Justice had his mace out. Anders snatched his staff from its sheath at his back and just as he was summoning a spark of flame Nathaniel spoke to him without breaking his gaze away from the Templars. “Perhaps you should make yourself scarce.”

Anders would have been happy for any excuse to reduce a Templar to ash but there were also nearly ten of them and he didn’t like those odds, even with Nathaniel and Justice fighting on his side. “You don’t need to tell me twice!” Without a second thought, he turned tail and ran, griffon in tow.

But he didn’t get far.

Anders dove into the woods but he’d only gotten about fifty feet before a caught sight of a flash of silver armor in the brush ahead. The Templars had them surrounded. There was nowhere to run. It was a trap and they had walked right into it.

A loud shuffling sound behind him was the only warning he had before the back of his warden uniform was tugged sharply back. Then there was a great burst of wind, a sharp tug up, and his feet were suddenly leaving the ground. Crying out in shock, Anders’s staff tumbled from his hand as he scrambled to hang on but there was nothing but air to hang on to as the griffon took flight with Anders’s uniform snapped up tight in its beak. “Ahh! My staff! Andraste’s flaming knickers!”

Within seconds they were above the tree line and the Templars just stood there, dumbfounded, as the griffon’s wings caught the wind and carried them higher still. “Put me down! Down! Whoa! Blighted griffon!” But the griffon didn’t stop and instead continued to climb higher and higher, each beat of its gigantic wings lifting them up at least another twenty feet from the ground.

Realizing that falling now would easily kill him, Anders knew he had to move before the griffon decided to open his beak again. It took a bit of acrobatics and a quick prayer to the Maker but Anders managed to flip himself up and grab onto the stirrups of the griffon’s saddle. After that, it was a matter of carefully tugging himself free of the griffon’s beak, nearly having a heart attack as it finally released him, then a mad scramble up the saddle and onto the griffon’s back.

Once he was properly seated in the saddle, Anders took a long moment to calm himself back down before allowing himself the joyous realization that he was, in fact, riding a griffon. And, now that he wasn’t in dire mortal danger, it was the most freeing sensation he’d ever experienced. A wide smile burst across his face as he leaned forward to take the reins up again and gazed out at the horizon. Even the chill in the air and the strength of the wind around them wasn’t enough to dampen his mood and Anders laughed happily as he looked over and realized they were almost twice as high as the Circle Tower was tall.

He loved it, everything about it. Until he realized that tugging on the griffon’s reins wasn’t changing its course.

Swallowing as he glanced back down at the ground beneath him, Anders patted the griffon’s neck. “Hey. Hello there, griffon. That feels too impersonal. Shall I give you a name?” It was one of his favorite things, and everything deserved a name. “What about…hmm…Yes,” he nodded to himself, “you seem like a Lord Fluffington to me.” He was certainly fluffy and noble enough for the title. “Lord Fluffington, how is one supposed to give you direction? The reins seem to be little more than handholds. Is it a verbal command? If so, then please take me back to the Grey Wardens. I think that’d be best what with the Templars out and hunting for me. Are we in agreement?” Lord Fluffington released a screeching sound that carried over the sound of the wind and Anders took it as a noise of acknowledgement. “Good then.”

They weren’t in agreement.

Judging by the position of the sun, the griffon, Lord Fluffington, took off toward the northwest instead of back east toward Vigil’s Keep. But there wasn’t much more Anders could do besides hang on. So he told himself that being kidnapped by a griffon was still more acceptable than being taken by the Templars and chatted with Lord Fluffington as they flew for hours. At least it felt like hours. The landscape changed beneath them, shifting from forest to water and then cycling between forest,  grassland, and mountains. Anders couldn’t keep track of the path they were taking; with all his escape attempts and then work with the Wardens, he had become fairly familiar with which main thoroughfares across Thedas led to where but this was an entirely different way to travel. But as the sun began to touch the horizon line and just as Anders started to worry that he was going to be hopelessly lost forever, mountains gave way to desert and Anders had a sudden realization of just where they were. “This looks like…Are you taking me to the Anderfels?” It seemed impossible that they could have traveled so far so quickly but he knew that they were traveling many times faster than anyone could on horseback and without the limitations of such things has roads perhaps it was possible. “I appreciate the consideration but just because that’s my namesake doesn’t mean I want to go back.”

There was no home left for him in the Anderfels nor family who would want anything to do with him. It was a little heartbreaking to realize that but it was true.

Though, it wasn’t just the Anderfels that he was looking at. There was something else there, a large structure coming into view on a mesa above most of the dunes. A fortress, in fact, with tall walls and an imposing looking tower. “No, wait…Is that…? Is that Weisshaupt?” Anders’s eyes widened; he felt woefully unprepared to even be in the presence of Weisshaupt. He was a Grey Warden, yes, but…“Andraste’s arse. I know I asked you to take me to the Grey Wardens but these weren’t the Grey Wardens I meant. Or is this where you’re from? Are you like some sort of giant Grey Warden messenger pigeon?”

It felt like he was seeing something that he hadn’t yet earned or that he wasn’t ready for yet. He’d only ever heard stories of Weisshaupt form the other senior Wardens. Even Elissa had never been there in person. He could only imagine that the Wardens there were the most zealous of the lot which was just…Anders was a someone reluctant conscript at best. The great majority of Grey Wardens he’d met so far who were wholly dedicated to the cause were downright unpleasant to be around and he didn’t feel prepared to face an entire fortress-worth of those sorts by himself. There was only so much tension his jokes and flirting could dispel.

Releasing a breath, Anders cast his gaze about for anything else, anything that could divert Lord Fluffington’s path. And the Maker must have been trying to make up for sending those Templars his way because as he looked toward the east he caught sight of a cloud of dust rising up from among the sand dunes. It appeared to be coming from a small herd of men on horseback galloping through the desert. Anders thought they were Grey Wardens heading toward Weisshaupt but as they drew closer Anders saw that there were Tevinter banners flying over the traveling party. And they seemed to be chasing something: a lone figure about half a mile ahead of them who was racing across the dunes on foot.

Anders narrowed his eyes and he reassessed the situation. “Hold on, what’s that there?” As someone who had done quite a bit of running away in his life, he knew what it looked like. And as much as he admired the Tevinters for their acceptance and celebration of mages, he immediately knew which side he was going take.

Tugging on the reins again, Anders leaned forward and pointed toward the running figure. “Land, there behind that dune.”

Finally, the griffon listened. Lord Fluffington turned with a throaty rumble and Anders released a yelp and scrambled to grip the reins with both hands again as it tucked it swooped down. They descended quickly, nearly free-falling from the sky but Lord Fluffington seemed entirely in control and landed almost daintily on the ground. It almost seemed to grin at Anders as he slid out of the saddle and all but collapsed onto the sand under his feet. Lord Fluffington chuffed out an amused sound as Anders took a few stumbling steps and, Maker, it felt as if his legs were made of gelatin. “Yes, yes. You’re very clever. Look at you, able to stand properly.”

The griffon clacked its beak and leaned forward to nose at the hood of Anders’s Warden uniform and he gently pushed its head away. “I’m fine. And I’m going to go after whoever that is to see if they need help. But you stay. I’ll be right back.” As he spoke, he had continued to walk toward the edge of the dune but turned around. “Though, on second thought, if I’m not back in a few minutes, come after me. But don’t get captured. Preferably neither of us will get captured but they, whoever they are, don’t deserve to take you in too.” Lord Fluffington cocked his head to the side but stayed where he was, leaving Anders to continue on alone.

This really was against his nature, walking toward potential danger rather than running from it. But he had always been braver when others’ safety was on the line instead of his own.

Picking up his pace, Anders ran toward the path he thought the figure would take through the dunes. Lord Fluffington had landed perhaps half a mile away from the action and he quickly found that running through the dry sand was no easy feat. Whoever he had seen from the sky must have some sort of endurance because a few minutes in and Anders was already having trouble, his boots sinking into the dunes with each step and his robes tangling about his legs. But his Warden stamina picked up the slack when his body naturally would’ve started to tire and he carried on.

As he hurried around the base of yet another dune, his predictive abilities worked out for once and he caught sight of the runner. Surprised that he’d actually guessed right, Anders was surprised all over again as the runner raced toward him before skidding to a stop as their eyes met. It was an elf, the dark color of his skin cut through with white tattoos visible even beneath the hooded cloak he was wearing. The elf’s green eyes flashed to Anders and for a moment he was struck dumb. Then the elf narrowed his eyes and Anders noticed the massive broadsword he was carrying for the first time as they elf reached up and freed from its sheath at his back.

He snarled at Anders as he hefted the sword up, his voice unexpectedly deep as he growled in a prominent Tevinter accent, “More blood to be shed. Nothing is ever easy...”

Anders’s heart jumped up into his throat and he threw his hands up. “Wait! Wait. I’m here to help.”

The elf’s eyes narrowed further and he glared at Anders. “Who are you?”

“I think that’s my line.” Anders let his hands fall to his side now that it didn’t seem like he was going to be instantly run through. “You’re on my land. Well, not _my_ land, but Warden land so by extension I think I have some ownership rights over—”

“What do you want?”

They didn’t really have the time to stand and chat about this. The elf might not realize how close his pursuers were but Anders did. “I told you, I want to help. It’s sort of what we, the Grey Wardens, do.” Sort of. Well, not really. The Grey Wardens as a group didn’t seem to give two figs about non-Blight problems. Elissa Cousland’s enclave of Wardens were exceptions rather than the rule.

“And what price would your help have?”

Anders’s eyes caught on a plume of dust rising up over Fenris’s shoulder and he knew that the hunting party was close. “Oh, for the love of—come here!” As much as Andes liked to talk, there was no more time for questions.

Disregarding the huge sword in the elf’s hands, Anders darted forward, grabbed his shoulder, and began to hustle him back the way he came. The elf protested, his heels digging into the sand as he tried to slow Anders down. “What are you doing?”

“Hiding! There’s only two of us and about twenty of them and those don’t seem like good odds to me. Now shut up.” Him calling out and making a fuss was only going to attract their attention. Anders had narrowly escaped an ambush that day and he had no plans to get caught in another.

They didn’t have enough time to get back to Lord Fluffington so Anders dragged the elf around the dune toward a small crevice he had noticed near the base of one of the dunes. Perhaps it had once held a river but now it was just big enough for them to dive into. And in the nick of time. As Anders hauled the elf down, he saw the elf’s ears twitch slightly and a second later he hear the sound of hoofbeats pounding by. They both froze and listened to the riders shout angrily in Tevene and Anders’s grip tightened on the elf’s shoulder as they thundered by.

But they didn’t stop and kept right on going, continuing through the dunes along what would have been the most likely route for elf to take.

The moment they were out of earshot, the elf tugged himself free, “Release me!”

It was like a slap to the face and Anders started back so suddenly he nearly knocked himself over. The reaction clearly caught the elf off guard and he blinked back as Anders righted himself with a sheepish smile. “Pretend you didn’t see that. Now that they’re gone, let’s start over, shall we? Hello, my name is Anders. And you are…?”

The elf hesitated for a long moment before nodding. “...Fenris.”

“Fenris. Okay, good. That’s a good start, don’t you think? Why were those people after you? They didn’t seem too happy with you.”

Fenris scoffed and looked back over his shoulder to where the riders had disappeared. Even when he was irritated, his voice was steady and deep. “No. I suppose they weren’t. They were slavers.”

“Oh.” That possibly explained a lot then. “Are you an escaped slave?”

“I…” Fenris took a breath, his eyes flashing back to Anders’s. “Yes. I’ll warn you know, if you plan on turning me in I will kill you without hesitation.”

Knowing he was an escaped slave made the whole thing worth it and Anders grinned. “Wow, no hesitation whatsoever? That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think? Though I guess I can relate. But don’t worry. I am the last person who would turn anyone in for running away from something like that, believe me.”

Fenris eyed him again before he reached back and re-sheathed his sword, much to Anders’s relief. Then he reached up and pulled his hood down, revealing pointed ears and a shock of hair as white as snow, a few strands of which fell down over the tattoo on Fenris’s forehead. “Are you really a Grey Warden?”

Wasn’t the uniform enough of a giveaway? He couldn’t imagine anyone running around in silver and blue with a griffon emblazoned on their chest just for the fun of it. “Of course! What’s that supposed to mean?” Because it felt a little like he’d just been insulted.

Fenris simply shrugged. “You are not what I had expected. There are no Grey Wardens in Tevinter. I had thought you would be more…” His voice trailed off as he searched for right word.

“Let me guess: stoic? Gritty? Solemn? Less handsome perhaps?”

That earned Anders a small smile, dry though it was. “All of the above. Save for the last.”

Gasping, Anders rested a hand over his heart. “You wound me. And here I have been nothing but gallant.”

“You enjoy hearing yourself talk, don’t you?”

“No, I’m just not fond of silence. There’s a difference. Now,” he rose to his feet and brushed himself off, “You were running away from those blighted slavers. What possessed you to come out this way?”

Fenris stood with him though he was much more graceful about it than Anders had been. “Weisshaupt. I had heard that the Grey Wardens would…take in those who had nothing left.”

“That’s one way to put it…” Anders had other descriptions for the Grey Wardens that weren’t as flattering. Not that he didn’t appreciate what the order had done for him—if Elissa hadn’t found and recruited him, Anders was sure that he would already be dead, or worse, branded. But there were some catches that he wished he’d known before the Joining. Fenris had far too much life in his eyes yet to earn the death sentence the Grey Wardens gave you. “Come on. You look about ready to topple over.” And it was true; now that they had stopped running and he had a moment’s pause, the elf was swaying lightly as he stood and the bags beneath his eyes were more noticeable. “Let’s get some distance between them and us and then get you some food. Luckily I was able to keep my pack with me and I have some rations left over.”

Fenris rose a brow but followed Anders as he made his way from their hiding spot. “You’re not taking me to Weisshaupt?”

“Hm? No. Not, not right away. The slavers must’ve known that you were heading there; it will be the first place they check. And the other Wardens are sure to give them the run around when they come knocking which will give us an extra few minutes.” It sounded as plausible as anything else and better than saying that Anders didn’t want to step foot in Weisshaupt himself. As he talked, he led Fenris back through the dunes toward where he had left Lord Fluffington. “I can imagine their conversation: ‘Hello there, we’re looking for an elf.’ ‘Do you have an appointment with the Warden Commander?’ ‘No, but this is urgent!’ ‘I’m sorry, serrah, but you’ll have to wait. While you wait, you may come inside but only into this one hallway and this anteroom. Please do not touch anything, it’s libel to be cursed or be infected with the Blight.’ ‘How long will we have to wait?’ ‘How long until the next Blight?’ Ah, the expediency of the order regarding non-blighted issues can be astounding at times.”

Fenris let him prattle on without interruption, only giving him amused huff or shake of the head when Anders earned them. He wasn’t sure how long the elf’s patience would last but luckily, perhaps for both of them, Anders didn’t have that much time to fill. He retraced his steps and within minutes a familiar form appeared form behind a sand dune. He knew Fenris had seen it too when the previously-graceful elf stumbled. “What is _that_?”

They had drawn close enough now that Anders reached out and ran his hand down the feathers on the griffon’s neck. “This is Lord Fluffington.”

He blinked, eyes wide. “What?”

“Lord Fluffington. That’s its name.”

“Why would—?” Fenris scowled and shook his head. “No, I don’t want to know. _What_ is it?”

Anders grinned as Lord Fluffington chirped and nuzzled his beak against Anders’s shoulder. “It’s a griffon. The preferred mount of the Grey Wardens.”

“I didn’t know such things existed.”

“Neither did I!” Anders admitted with a laugh. “And yet, here it is. But I’m not certain we should fly at night so we can make camp.”

Fenris looked over toward where the sun was nearly sunk down below the dunes in the distance. “Could we not walk back?”

“We could. But, with how angry those slavers sound and with the day you’ve had, I’d rather not risk it.” And also Anders really didn’t want to go. There was also that.

Having nothing with him but his small pack, Anders couldn’t provide either of them with a bed roll but they did wander enough until they found a cluster of dry, scrubby brush and, while Fenris went out to hunt down whatever creature he could find, Anders lit a small fire for them with a quick spark of flame from his fingertips. He hadn’t honestly expected Fenris to come back with any food at all and began to unpack his meager rations for them to share but was shocked when the other appeared about ten minutes later, triumphant with a dead fennec in hand. They settled down to eat their surprisingly well-rounded meal and talked about not much of anything as they watched the moons rise.

When they were both finished, they ended up lounging against Lord Fluffington who had lay down behind them. Anders was full, the griffon’s feathers were soft, and his company was unexpectedly interesting. It was nice.

After a natural lull in their conversation, Fenris glanced over at Anders. “You don’t seem like a traditional Grey Warden.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment. Though it’s true. It’s not as if I grew up dreaming of joining the Wardens.” Though he had grown up dreaming of being outside the Circle Tower so, in a way, things had sort of worked out for him.

“Why _did_ you join the Wardens?”

Anders smile fell away. “I was being hunted and swore I’d rather die than be captured again…”

“So why discourage me from doing the same?”

“Because it…” Because no one told you that becoming a Warden was more of a curse than an escape. “Because you have another option. A better one.”

Fenris didn’t look convinced. “And what would that be?”

“You’re looking at it.” When Fenris only stared at him, Anders tapped his chest. “It’s me! If you go to Weisshaupt they are sure to conscript you. But I will take you back to Vigil’s Keep. Elissa, the Warden Commander, she is less…traditional than those at Weisshaupt. She can offer you aid and protection without requiring that you first join the Wardens which is a virtual death sentence, albeit a more prolonged one.”

“You believe your Warden Commander has the ability to shield me from Danarius?”

He was speaking of his former master, the one who had sent those slavers after him. From everything Anders had heard so far, the man was a worthless excuse for a human being. The exact type of person Elissa loved to take down a peg or two. “Oh, yes. She defeated the Archdemon and stopped the Blight; a lone Magister would be little trouble.”

Fenris hummed, his gaze somewhere far away as he looked over into the fire. “You say that now, but you do not know the political weight he and the Imperium carry with them.”

“Ah, it’s politics that have you concerned then. Did I mention she’s married to the King of Ferelden? That should make even your Danarius think twice before trying to cross her.”

Fenris bristled at that, his eyes snapping back to Anders’s. “Danarius is not ‘my’ anything. And no longer am I his.”

He hadn’t meant— “Of course not! I apologize, I didn’t mean to imply anything of the sort. You’re free now. We both are.”

His words seemed to calm Fenris which made Anders happy to see because the last thing he wanted was to offend him. It had been a while since he’d felt such a spark of a connection with another and he didn’t want to drive Fenris away with misspoken words. Especially not those words.

Fenris’s voice, quiet though it was, cut through his thoughts. “…I am pleased that of all the people I could have run into in the desert, I ran into one who understands.”

Looking over, he saw that there was a small smile on Fenris’s face and Anders instantly returned it. “So am I.”

For not having tents or blankets, Anders slept well enough that night. They woke with the sun the next morning and, after a quick breakfast of what was left in Anders’s pack, Anders helped Fenris up onto Lord Fluffington’s saddle, slid on in front of him, and they were off. Since he was sure by now that Lord Fluffington was able to receive some sort of direction and listen to it, Anders instructed him to fly them to Vigil’s Keep. He didn’t know if the griffon understood but he was hopeful when it didn’t immediately turn toward Weisshaupt again.

As soon as the griffon’s feet left the ground, Fenris shouted and flung his arms around Anders’s waist. Which was not entirely unpleasant on Anders’s end of things. And while Fenris didn’t seem to mind the contact, he did mind something else. They flew for hours and had just crossed the Waking Sea when Anders felt Fenris press his face against his back. He’d become quieter and quieter as the day wore on; Anders was starting to think that he’d fallen asleep until Fenris flexed his arms around his waist and spoke above the sound of the wind. “Anders, can we land?”

Frowning, Anders looked around them. If he had to take a guess they were back over Ferelden soil but nowhere near Amaranthine and Vigil’s Keep yet. “Why?”

“I think I may be sick.”

“Oh!” Anders chuckled and gave a gentle tug on the griffon’s reins. “Let’s land, Fluffington, for both our sakes!” There as an answering screech and Anders got the feeling that neither of them were interested in having vomit on their backs.

They landed in what looked to be a rugged part of the Coastlands on a small bluff overlooking a river valley that cut its way out to the Waking Sea. The view was lovely but the first thing Anders did once they landed was dig through his pouch for a potion he knew he had—ah, there it was. Pulling out the vial of pale green liquid, Anders handed it to Fenris with a soft smile. “Here. Drink this. It will help settle your stomach.”

The elf eyed the vial suspiciously. “What is it?”

“A potion, mostly elfroot. It doesn’t even taste too bad.” The ones that tasted bad were much more serious health problems.

Fenris pulled a face but grudgingly accepted the potion and downed it in nearly one go. His frown softened a bit as it went down and Anders could see it on his face when the potion began to take effect. “Thank you…”

“You’re very welcome. Now,” setting his bag aside, Anders looked around them and nodded, “I still have enough rations for one more night, especially if you can catch us a small something again. Let’s make camp and finish our flight on tomorrow morning.”

Fenris’s frown was back in full force. “Not for my sake. It’s barely late afternoon; we have  a good few hours of daylight left.”

“Yes, for your sake. And for mine.” Laying down, Anders used his bag as a makeshift pillow and grinned as Lord Fluffington chirped happily and mimicked him, settling in the patch of sun they were in like a giant house cat. “Besides, I like the fresh air and sleeping out under the stars.”

Staring down at the both of them, Fenris shook his head. “…You’re a strange man…But,” he set down his own bag, unstrapped his sword, and lowered himself to sit beside Anders, facing out toward the Waking Sea, “there is some value in your words.”

“On occasion,” Anders smiled back. He was in no real rush to get back to Vigil’s Keep now that Fenris was away from the immediate grasp of those slavers. There was no reason to push themselves, especially if air travel left Fenris feeling nauseous.

As if to make up for slowing them down, Fenris insisted on setting up their campfire so Anders happily wandered his way down to the river below to try his hand at fishing. He used to go out with his father and catch fish before—things changed, so he knew the basics. But after a few failures at trying to put together a fishing pole and then more failures at trying to catch them by hand, a quick lightening spell into the water brought a few large fish right to the surface. Fenris seemed impressed when he returned with them and Anders kept his technique to himself so as not to ruin that.

After another decent meal, they took up their position resting back against Lord Fluffington again. The griffon didn’t seem to mind a bit and rumbled out a pleased down before nestling down for a nap. Anders and Fenris spent a while talking but soon Anders began to nod off himself as they watched the sun set.

When Anders next opened his eyes, they snapped open, his heart pounding in his chest, the dark claws of the nightmarish vision that had woke him still latched into his mind. He tried to sit up and was nearly frightened all over again when he found that he couldn’t until he realized where he was. He had slid off of Lord Fluffington and was lying on the ground beside him, with one arm flung over Fenris and his other trapped beneath the elf, who was much more compact that any elf Anders had yet met and kept him pinned. But it was obvious who’s fault their position was and Anders managed a shaky laugh as he fought to regain control of himself. Fenris had woken—Anders knew he probably cried out in his sleep—and was watching him with a careful neutrality, his eyes nearly glowing in the dark as Anders caught his breath. “Ugh…Sorry…I um, I should have warned you I was a cuddler.”

“It…was not so bad.” Fenris’s sleep-worn voice was even deeper than it usually was and it went a long way to soothe the lingering fear from Anders’s veins. “You’re warm at least.”

That wrenched another chuckle out of Anders and he forced himself to settle back down beside Fenris, using the simple comfort of lying beside a solid, warm body to steady himself further. Fenris gave him the time he needed to collect himself then spoke again, his voice quiet. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“Yes.” There was no point in denying it. “One of the side-benefits of being a Warden is you rarely get a night without one…” Not that he had been nightmare-free before joining. Come to think of it, sleeping in the shadow of Weisshaupt had given Anders one of his first dream-free nights in probably over a year. Was it the place or the new company that had saved him from it?

Fenris nodded then, to Anders’s surprise, slipped his hand up between them to clasp Anders’s hand in his. “Come…let us get a few more hour’s rest if you are able. Then in the morning, perhaps after a long breakfast, we can make our way to Vigil’s Keep.”

Anders’s pulse skipped for an entirely different reason than fear and he blinked down at the elf before smiling back in return, “Sounds good.”

They stuck with Fenris’s plan. Anders managed to get a few more hours of sleep in and then they woke and spent a rather lazy morning together before deciding that they should finally get on their way when the sun began to climb higher and it looked to be nearly midday. When they took off again, Fenris’s grip was just as tight around his waist and Anders patted his hand sympathetically after making a promise to give him more of that potion when they reached Vigil’s Keep.

Compared to the day before, it was a relatively short flight and before too long Anders saw the familiar shape of the Keep on the horizon. He knew Vigil’s Keep had spotted them too because when they drew close enough to hear, Anders could already here the sentries calling out a welcome. Lord Fluffington made one lazy circle around the Keep—if Anders didn’t know better, he’d say it was to show itself off to the gathering crowds—before the griffon landing with a flourish right in the center courtyard. They were instantly surrounded by curious Wardens and after Anders and Fenris dismounted, one of them took custody of Lord Fluffington and led it to the stables.

Fenris stuck close to Anders’s side as they waded through the small crowd and Anders made sure to keep an eye on him until he caught a familiar face out of the corner of his eye pushing his way through the other Wardens. “Anders!” Anders’s smiled at Nathaniel’s near panicked expression. “Are you well? Come here.” Closing in, Nathaniel put his hands on Anders’s shoulders. “Are you injured?”

Anders laughed, relieved that Nathaniel had made it back in one piece too. “Worrying over the healer now, Nate? If you keep this up, I’ll start to think you actually care for me!”

Behind him, Fenris started, his eyes widening in shock. “Healer?”

“Ah, yes.” Anders smiled back at him. “I’m a spirit healer.”

Fenris’s eyes narrowed as his voice tightened. “A mage?”

“Yes?” Anders’s response hitched up into a question at the end, unsure what had prompted the elf’s sudden change in mood but was unprepared when Fenris shoved him away, his gaze now downright murderous. “Fenris, what—?”

“Stay away from me!”

With that he turned on his heel and marched off toward the main building of the Keep. Both Anders and Nathaniel watched him go, Anders with mouth agape and Nathaniel with one brow arched, and neither spoke until Fenris had stormed into the building and slammed the door behind him.

“And who is your new friend?”

Anders shook his head. “I’m not sure if we’re friends anymore, to be honest, but his name is Fenris.”

“He seems delightful.” Nathaniel’s words were as dry as the dunes around Weisshaupt. Though, to be fair, that was how he generally spoke. The archer looked back over at Anders and a small smile worked its way onto his lips. “We placed your staff in you room in case you decided to come back.”

“As if I had any better to go.”

Nathaniel clapped him on the back. “Find Elissa. She was worried for you and will be glad to see that you’re well.”

Feeling a bit lost, Anders nodded and did as Nathaniel advised. He checked first in her office but was informed that the Warden Commander had stepped out when news had reached her of his return. But since she hadn’t welcomed him in the courtyard…Realization struck him and Anders walked back out through the courtyard and to the stables. Lord Fluffington had been set up in the largest stall available and spoiled with a whole trough full of some sort of meat Anders didn’t want to examine too closely and a bed of linens to rest on. And there was Elissa, standing in front of his stall, watching the griffon eat.

She glanced over at Anders as he walked up to her and smiled. “Forgive me for not coming to greet you first. Is that what I think it is?”

“A griffon, yeah.” It was harder to smile back than it should have been but Anders managed for her.

“And you rode it?”

“Yes. And I named him too.”

Her face fell, though he could see a spark of amusement in her eyes as she turned to him. “Oh, no, Anders…!”

Laughing, he held his hands up. “You haven’t even heard it yet!”

“Do I want to?” Heaving a sigh, Elissa crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay, let’s get this over with. What did you name it?”

“Lord Fluffington.” At the sound of its name, the griffon released a happy screech before returning to its lunch and Anders’s smile widened. “Look! They like it.”

Elissa appeared less pleased by it. “You find the first known griffon that’s existed for over a hundred years and you name it ‘Lord Fluffington’.”

“I thought it was suitably noble.”

She sighed again and shook her head and Anders knew he had won. “Well, Alistair will like it...” She was silent for a few moments as they both stood and watched Fluffington eat before speaking again, her tone slightly changed from their previous conversation. “I noticed that Lord Fluffington wasn’t the only guest you returned with.”

“Hm? Oh, yes. The other would be Fenris. I found him near Weisshaupt on the Tevinter border running from slavers.” And, bless her, Elissa didn’t even blink an eye at that. “He’s…We’re not on the best of terms right now, but he needs our help. Without the sort of strings that would’ve been attached at Weisshaupt. If he could stay, just for a few months, until his former master stopped hunting for him, it would…mean a lot to me.”

“You realize you’re asking a lot of me, Anders. We’d be offering a fugitive political asylum from very powerful people.”

“What’s one more to add to your collection? Besides, you were just saying how you missed having some excitement around here.”

She pinned him with the same look Anders used to earn himself from old Chantry sisters before nodding. “He can stay, for now.”

“Thank you.”

“In return, you can help me train some new recruits who arrived earlier this morning.”

That was a fair enough trade in Anders’s eyes but, “Really? People are volunteering themselves now?” After Elissa had slain the Archdemon and ended the Blight, there were understandably fewer people anxious to give themselves over to the Grey Wardens.

“I didn’t question their motives. If they are willing to devote themselves to the Grey Wardens they deserve the chance to do so. Their Joining will be held in two days, the night before I leave for Denerim. If they survive, I’d like you to be there to watch over them over the next few days.”

“Ah, yes. Waking up with images of an Archdemon in your head is never fun. You drive a hard bargain, Elissa, but you’ve got yourself a deal.” He would have done it either way. Whoever survived the Joining would need a healer nearby if they wanted the transition to be less than awful.

Leaving his Commander to admire their newest acquisition, Anders made his way back into the main part of the Keep. As he walked through the halls, he kept his eyes open for a certain elf. He had looked for Fenris before when he had come in search of Elissa too but there had been no sign of him. For someone unfamiliar with the twisting hallways of Vigil’s Keep, he had apparently managed to hide himself away in them quite well. Anders just hoped he had enough sense not to go into the basement. They had recently blocked off some doors down there that led to the Deep Roads but they always kept at least one open for training purposes.

Again, Fenris eluded him, but someone else found him and thankfully it was someone who was happy to see hm. Anders smiled happily as a _mew_ echoed down the hall and a second later Ser Pounce-a-Lot came trotting down the hall where their bedrooms were to meet him, meowing as he ran. It was the cutest thing Anders had seen in a long while and he scooped the cat up.            

“Ser Pounce! Oh, hello, I missed you too! What a sight for sore eyes. I think what I need is a nice long bath and then an equally long cuddle. It’s been an adventurous few days…”

Pounce squirmed in his arms and Anders released him only to have Pounce clamor up his arm and onto his shoulder. He rubbed his head against Anders’s cheek then let out a loud _mrowr_! “What is it?” Pounce meowed again and looked down the hall and it was only then that Anders realized that his door was open. His heart picked up a beat, hope blossoming traitorously in his heart that maybe Fenris had found his way there.

Hurrying up to his room, Anders swung the door open to find that, yes, someone was there but it wasn’t a white-haired elf. Sighing, Anders tilted his head and reached up to pet Pounce to soothe him. “I see we still have some work to do about explaining personal boundaries, Justice.” The spirit never had understood the concept of a bedroom being a particularly private place.

Justice didn’t react to the comment, his face stoic as he turned to greet Anders. “You are well. We feared the worst when you were carried off by the beast.”

“I’m fairly hard to get rid of. Just ask the Templars.”

Anders had grinned at that but Justice’s face slipped down into a frown. “There is nothing humorous about the Templars. What they attempted to do to you that day was an injustice. It should not be tolerated.”

“I won’t argue with you on that one.”

“Why does no one act?”

Pounce jumped off of his shoulder as Anders shrugged. “What would they do? What can any one person truly do against a system so ingrained in our society?”

Justice didn’t seem pleased by his answer and his frown deepened. “You admit defeat too easily. A single person may change much if they will it.”

“ _You_ could, perhaps. The rest of us mere mortals only have so much of ourselves to give before we give it all away for a cause. And as ‘just’ as that would be, I’ve spent too long chasing freedom to give it away to others now that I’ve finally found it.”

“You care nothing for the plight of your fellow mages? What of their struggle? How can you turn a blind eye to their oppression?”

Sighing, Anders glanced up at the ceiling then shook his head. “Look, Justice, I just returned from a very strange, very long trip. I’m tired and this conversation is more than I can handle with everything else that’s going on.” All he wanted was to relax, appreciate not being imprisoned, and try to drown the feeling of rejection in simple luxuries. Was that so much to ask for? “So, unless there is anything else you need…?” He let his voice trail off then raised a brow when Justice failed to understand the implied dismissal. “Unless there is anything else you need, please leave.”

Justice still seemed disgruntled but nodded and moved toward the door. He paused though as he passed by Anders and looked up to meet his gaze. “Where is the singing elf?”

It took Anders a moment to realize just what he was talking about but when it struck him that the spirit must be referring to Fenris, he barked out a laugh. “Singing? Justice, I sincerely doubt that you heard Fenris singing anything.” Even when he liked Anders, he hadn’t seemed the type. “But if that is who you are asking about, I don’t know where he is at the moment. Let me know if you find him though.”

“Very well.”

Thankfully Justice left after that. To reward himself for making it through all his recent trials, Anders treated himself to a long, hot bath, just as he told Pounce he would. The shared bathroom located down the hall had an attached, private room with a bath and he only felt a bit guilty for monopolizing it for nearly half an hour. Pounce followed him in and lounged on the side of the tub beside him and it was the perfect picture of peace.

But while it was relaxing Anders wasn’t able to lose himself in the luxury of it as he usually was. He was still unsettled by Fenris’s reaction to learning that he was a mage. It wasn’t as if he had been trying to hide the fact that he was one, there was no reason for the betrayal he had seen on Fenris’s face before he disappeared. Maybe there was a misunderstanding between them that he couldn’t see. Maybe a simple conversation would clear it up and they could go back to…whatever they had been in the days before that. He wanted to think that there had been something there, that he hadn’t been the only one between them that had felt a connection. He hadn’t met anyone he’d wanted so much to like him in a while but the handsome elf had crawled under his skin somehow…Though, if he were honest with himself, the ‘handsome’ part probably helped.

Finishing up his bath, Anders dried himself off, pulled on a robe, and made his way back to his room in a far more pensive state then he intended. Sleep didn’t come easy that night and he tossed and turned in his bed, upsetting Pounce and nearly knocking him off the bed twice. It was a toxic mix of nightmares and worries from the day straining his nerves. And the lack of a warm body beside him. It was something he hadn’t had in years and having it for one night had made him remember how much he enjoyed it.

Anders woke tired and grouchy the next morning. Pounce scampered off as soon as Anders opened the door to his room with an annoyed flick of his tail which only made Anders’s mood worsen. Even his cat didn’t want to be around him anymore. He went down to eat with the others and tried his best to be his usual social self. He only partially succeeded but when Sigrun called him out on it Anders explained his mood away with a partial-truth that he didn’t get enough sleep the night before.

He wanted to go back to his room and hide away until he had shaken off his mood but there was no rest for the weary. The Wardens, like the Circle, didn’t allow one to laze about for a day, especially when you were the best healer in Vigil’s Keep. Anders had a backlog of chores to do around the infirmary now that he had returned and he had additional preparation to make for the new recruits Elissa had once they got through their Joining. Assuming that they made it through their Joining.

Being busy at least had the benefit of keeping him from becoming too wrapped up in his own thoughts. Anders had forgotten that Pounce hadn’t returned until he was closing up the infirmary and noticed the lack of a ginger tabby winding his way between Anders’s feet bothering him for food. Which wasn’t like Pounce at all; he was at his most predictable at dinner time. He was like a little Warden himself with his appetite.

He went in search of his cat, starting in all of Pounce’s usual haunts and then expanded out when that failed to produce any signs of his pet. Anders spent nearly an hour looking and just when he caught a flash of orange out of the corner of his eye and turned just in time to see a stripped tail flick around a corner of a rarely-used hallway in the east side of the Keep. It had been badly damaged during the siege and was still under repair.

Anders sighed in relief and chased after him, “Pounce! Wait!” He rounded the corner and saw Pounce heading toward a darkened doorway. The cat paused just long enough to glance back at him before disappearing into the room. Knowing that it was a closed space with only that one exit, Anders slowed his pace and smiled. “There you are. I was wondering where you’d gotten off t—” His words caught as he stepped through the door to see Pounce sitting in a small halo of light coming from a lantern set in the middle of the room. A makeshift cot was set up beside the lantern and on it was a very familiar elf, a half-eaten plate of fish, bread, and fruit set beside him.

For a moment, Fenris looked as surprised to see Anders as Anders was to see him but he quickly recovered and held out a piece of fish to Pounce. “Is this your cat?” Anders nodded dumbly and Fenris smirked. “He is unusually good at tracking. He found me this morning and hasn’t left me in peace since.”

Anders huffed out a laugh. “He’s very smart…Unlike his owner, apparently.” He had told himself he would try and make things right between them when they next met. It was now or never. “Listen, Fenris, I…I never meant to make you feel…uncomfortable. I had no idea that my being a mage would be a problem. Though I don’t know why it should be—”

Fenris scowled and snapped back before he finished. “Of course it’s a problem. Mages are dangerous. The moment they are set loose they use their power to take control over everything around them!”

Shocked, Anders could only blink for a few moments before anger flared hot in his chest. So there was no misunderstanding; Fenris was just being an ass. “You would see us all locked away then?”

“It would be better for all involved.”

That was just—! “Void take you! You don’t know what it’s—no. It’s worse. I forgot, you _do_ know what it’s like, to be kept somewhere against your will with your whole life controlled by another and the constant threat of death if you misstep. Or worse! And you still think that ‘is better for all involved’?”

Fenris scoffed. “Do not compare your life to mine. You were not a slave.”

“Wasn’t I? At the very least, I was a prisoner! I was allowed no freedoms! They locked me away and—!” Anders’s voice broke and he snapped his jaw shut. He could feel himself shaking but it was no longer just from anger. Memories of isolation, of impossibly long stretches of darkness broken only by sharp sparks of pain, came flickering back to him and he shook his head to try and clear it. It was over. He was free now. He was out. Sucking in a deep breath, he released it in a shuddering exhale and shook his head again before opening his eyes. When had he closed them? “No one deserves to be treated like that. And if you think I do simply because of the way I was born, you can leave.”

The bite had left Fenris’s voice when he next spoke but his feelings were obviously unchanged. “Mage…”

Anders sucked in his breath. His chest felt tight. “It’s ‘mage’ now, is it? I’m not even worthy of a name? Even slaves are allowed that much, aren’t they?”

“We are allowed the names our Masters give us.”

A small, sick smile slipped onto Anders’s lips. “Where do you think the name ‘Anders’ came from?” The Templars had destroyed any memory of whatever name he had been given by his parents. Fenris’s lips parted again as if to speak but he shook his head. He didn’t want to hear anything else Fenris had to say; it felt as if one more insult would break him. “Come, Pounce…”

Pounce looked up from the bit of fish Fenris had given him but reluctantly left it. Anders bent down and picked him up and the cat quickly climbed up his arm and took up his post on Anders’s shoulder.

He didn’t look back at Fenris and Fenris didn’t try to stop him as he left.

Anders returned to his room and readied himself for bed. He wasn’t sure how much of Fenris’s fish Pounce had eaten so he made sure Pounce had food in his bowl in case he was still hungry then readied himself for bed. He felt angry still but, more than that, it felt as if he had been hollowed out and left open and raw. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling.

He mechanically went through his nightly routine then climbed into bed, pulling Ser Pounce up on the bed beside him. Pounce happily curled up beside him, taking up half his pillow in the process, but Anders didn’t mind. He was more than happy to give up the space to have Pounce close to him. And sleep wasn’t coming to him anyway.

He stayed awake, watching as Ser Pounce cleaned himself, and had nearly lulled himself into some sort of half-sleep when he was startled out of it, he and Pounce jumping at the sound of a knock on the door. He sat up in bed and called out for whoever it was to enter, thinking it was Elissa, Oghren, or Nathaniel with news of some emergency but instead when the door opened it revealed the last person Anders expected to see: a reticent-looking Fenris.

The elf shifted his weight before speaking. “I didn’t mean to come so late. I wasn’t sure where your room was and finally had to ask for directions.” The elf stumbled through the explanation then cleared his throat. “May I come in?”

Anders raised a brow. “Since I don’t want whatever this is on display for the rest of the Wardens, please do.”

Fenris awkwardly stepped into the room and closed the door behind himself. He seemed entirely out of his element but Anders didn’t feel any sympathy and did absolutely nothing to help him as he fumbled his way through it. “Mage…I…apologize for my previous words. You have not yet shown anything but kindness to me and it was unworthy of me. I…have little experience in trusting mages. With receiving anything but pain from mages. In Tevinter, the Magisters rule and they are not kind. Danarius, my master, he used his magic to torture me. To make me do…unforgivable things. He turned me into this, this monster.”

Maker, but Anders had a soft heart. His anger at the elf melted away as he spoke and he shook his head. “…What are you talking about? You’re no monster. Aside from your monstrous view on mages.”

He almost regretted asking when he saw the pain that flashed through Fenris’s eyes. “My tattoos.” Fenris reached down and squeezed his own arm, his fingers digging into the skin between the swirling patterns of white. “They’re made of lyrium.”

Anders’s mouth fell open in horror. “How are you alive?” How would someone even inject lyrium into someone’s skin? How painful must that be?

A dark, mirthless smile twisted Fenris’s lips. “There are days in which I wish I wasn’t. But as terrible as Danarius’s crimes are, he is far from the worst of the magisters. I have not known any mages who are…good. Until now, it would seem.”

“Andraste’s knickers…I wish I were now.” He was not good. Justice had reminded him of that yesterday.

“You are good.” Fenris’s voice was quiet but firm. “Nothing I have seen or heard has disproven that thus far.”

“Give it time. I’m sure I’ll disappoint you yet.”

Fenris’s lips quirked back up but this time with a hint of amusement. “You are making it very difficult for me to apologize.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know if I’ve ever been complimented like that before. In other ways, yes. You wouldn’t believe the praise I got from some of the staff and patrons of the Pearl in Denerim.”

Fenris rolled his eyes. “Mage. Accept the compliment and my apology.”

“Very well. Both are—begrudgingly—accepted.” Anders was less begrudging than he should be though. “Thank you, Fenris. Although it wouldn’t kill you to use my name.”

“Think of it as a way to remind myself of your eventual betrayal.”

Anders raised his brows. “Was that…an attempt at a joke?” It was impossible to say; Fenris’s tone barely changed but that sounded like dark humor to him.

“You’re trying my patience.”

“Nathaniel says trying peoples’ patience is what I do best.”

“You do excel at it.”

They shared a long look before Anders broke it with a shake of his head and a smile. “Goodnight, Fenris.”

“Goodnight.”

Fenris left but after he had closed the door behind him Anders found himself nodding off as soon as his head touched his pillow.

 

The next day was much better for Anders. After going down to the dining hall for breakfast, he bundled up a few extra pastries and went to check in on Fenris. He had hidden himself away in the same room Pounce had found him in but was up and seemed grateful for the food. Anders didn’t linger though, knowing he would be needed. Their new recruits would be going through their Joining today. Elissa would have then busy for most of the morning and afternoon, fetching the darkspawn blood that they would need for the ritual, but Anders wanted to be on hand in case anything went wrong too soon. He couldn’t save them once they drank the blood but he could heal any broken bones or cuts they got while trying to retrieve it.

Anders left the room Fenris had claimed as his own and found Elissa. She was in the courtyard watching as a small cluster of men pulled armor on. Walking up, Anders stood beside her. He counted up the men and frowned. “All seven of them will be participating in the Joining?” That was a lot of lives to potentially lose at once.

Elissa nodded. “All seven. They came in together and they insist they join at the same time.”

“Have you explained what that means to them?”

“You know we can’t speak of it beforehand…” Elissa didn’t seem happy about it either. But she wasn’t doing anything to change it.

Anders stayed close to the recruits as they prepared themselves for their trip into the Deep Roads beneath the Keep but didn't accompany them. It wasn't his place and he had no desire to go back into the Deep Roads ever again if he could help it. All of them had appeared to be proficient warriors which was probably the only thing that kept them all alive. And to Anders’s relief, they all did survive and there was only one gash and a sprained wrist for him to heal when they emerged from the basement hours later, each stinking of darkspawn with a vial of blood clutched in their hands.  

They were allowed a few precious hours of rest and fed a large dinner. Perhaps for some of them their last meal; the Joining was held that night. Anders didn’t attend but was there for the aftermath and was ready when the four survivors were carried into the infirmary. Four out of seven…that wasn’t a good ratio and Anders felt a stab of pity for the three who succumbed to the darkspawn blood. It wasn’t a pretty way to die. But he was able to make the four who lingered as comfortable as possible in the infirmary.

Anders always forgot just how long newly-minted Wardens were unconscious for after their Joining. Well, unconscious was perhaps the wrong word; they were more trapped in a fever dream turned nightmare. He made the rounds to check that all four men were still breathing alright and that the damp cloths he had placed on their brows were still cool to help keep the sweat and heat from building up too much. The darkspawn blood was causing havoc in their bodies and he sent pulses of healing magic through them when they seemed to be in physical discomfort. There was nothing he could do to help them through it all mentally; they would have to manage that on their own.

It was nearly dawn when the first man—Geoff, Anders thought his name was—roused enough to comprehend the word around him. Anders smiled down at him when he saw the man’s eyes flickered opened. His eyes were slightly glazed and his pupils were dilated but at least they weren’t rolled back in his head anymore. “Hey there…How are you feeling?”

The man’s gaze focused on him and he released a dry gasp, “Y-you…!”

“Yes, me. I’ll be taking care of you this morning.” And after that hopefully he’d be able to take care of himself. It had been a long night. Another Warden had come to Keep watch and allow Anders a short nap around three in the morning but he rarely went so long without proper rest when he could help it. Fenris had stopped by about an hour ago as well and, though he had been skittish around Anders and his healing magic, he had said he would return for meals so that Anders didn’t miss any. Even though their renewed friendship still felt raw it was better than nothing. Elissa had left for Denerim that morning taking Nathaniel, Oghren, and Sigrun with her for the journey, leaving Anders with fewer friends than normal to keep him company.

“Where are…?”

Anders was drawn back to the present as Geoff gasped out another few words and Anders frowned at the pain he heard underlying his voice. “Four of your friends made it. The other three…” His brows furrowed and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, there was nothing I could do. But the others are resting and so should you be.” Reaching over to a small table set beside the man’s cot, Anders picked up a small bottle filled with a lavender purple liquid. “Drink this. It will make you sleep for a few hours more—without the nightmares, hopefully—and you should feel better when you wake.”

“Don’t leave.”

“Don’t worry.” Anders gently clasped the man’s hand, remembering his own Joining. All he had wanted was to know that for once in his life someone was there. “I’ll be right here.”

Thankfully the potion did its job and Geoff nodded back off minutes after downing it and fell into a dreamless sleep.

They woke one by one but it took nearly two days for Anders to be comfortable releasing them from the infirmary. He wanted to make sure that they weren’t going to collapse and that they were safely out of danger from succumbing to the darkspawn blood. But they all made it and walked out of the infirmary on their own power. They were strong and Anders was proud of them. Which was a bit ridiculous but it was true. They seemed ready to leave too; they had been getting understandably anxious once they started to spend more time awake than asleep. Anders was also relieved as they were. With them healthy again, he was finally off duty and stayed in the infirmary himself just long enough to clean it up.

Once he left, Anders hid himself away and reveled in doing absolutely nothing at all for anyone else except himself. Which mostly consisted of reading, eating, and playing with Pounce. He would’ve happily continued for another couple of days but Justice came knocking and after a series of increasingly uncomfortable questions about what he was doing and the sins of sloth he relented and left his room.

He reluctantly returned back to his post in the infirmary. It was made slightly better when Fenris stopped in and Anders convinced him to go and bring him back a snack and bottle of something to drink. He’d asked for whiskey, Fenris said he’d bring wine, but Anders suspected that all the elf would be able to find would be ale.

About five minutes after Fenris left, Anders heard the infirmary door open and looked up with a grin, “That didn’t take you lo—Oh!” He rose to his feet as the four new recruits he had just healed walked in instead of Fenris. “I’m sorry, I was expecting someone else. You all look much better.” And they did. They had more color back in their faces and they were holding themselves straighter. “It’s amazing what a bit of sleep and food will do, hm? Is there something I can do for you? Is there some after effect from your Joining?”

Anders tilted his head as all four filed into the room and his smile faded as they closed the door behind them.

The man who had stepped in first shook his head. “You really haven’t put it together yet? I mean, the timing of all this alone. How you managed to elude capture for so long is beyond me.”

A cold chill settled in Anders’s chest and he took a step back. “What are you talking about?” His eyes skipped from man to man until they rested on the one he knew best. The man who he had comforted when he was at death’s doorstep. “Geoff?”

Before Geoff was able to respond, the man in front of them spoke instead.  Like the alpha dog in a pack of wolves. Or like the Captain in a unit of Templars. “Your comrades led us right back here from Lake Calenhad. Since we weren't able to capture you, we knew that if were just patient and waited it out that you’d return. We knew we’d have to become Grey Wardens to stay but it was a sacrifice we were willing to make. Nothing you would know anything about. We were expecting to wait months but you did us the favor of returning within the week.”

By now, Anders was panicking. The Templars who he had helped become Wardens were between him and the door and he had left his staff in his room. He hadn’t needed it. He had been safe in the Keep. He had been safe here. He had been safe.

Geoff shook his head and drew a dagger from his belt. “Sorry, healer, nothing personal. If you come quietly, we won’t hurt you.”

“Though I can’t say what they’ll do to you once you get back to the Circle,” the Captain chuckled. “I’d say it’ll be the brand for this one.”

He stepped forward and Anders lashed out. He had to move fast. He didn’t have his staff and was at a huge disadvantage; they didn’t have their shields and swords but they wouldn’t need them. “Stay back!” Fire roared to life in his palms, wild without his staff to channel it, but before he could let it loose, two of the Templars stretched out their hand and Anders's world fell away from him as they cast Smite. “Agh—!” A scream was wrenched out of him as he collapsed to the ground, his connection with the Fade severed and all of his mana was instantly drained from his body. It was like being blinded and the _pain_ in his head and the way it spread through his body like a sickening numbness was nearly unbearable.

That numbness in his body didn’t last long. The next thing Anders was aware of, the four Templars had him surrounded from where he lay sprawled out on the infirmary floor. He began to shake and gasp for breath, memories of past torture flashing through his mind, then instantly silenced as the Templar Captain slammed the sole of his boot into Anders’s side. “Quiet! Stop whimpering like a child. You knew this was coming.”

Anders groaned and had just enough strength to curl in on himself. The worst part is that he hadn’t seen this coming. Tears pricked his eyes as he felt hands wrap around his arms and he was hauled upright. Andraste’s ass, he hadn’t seen this coming. And there was no one left at Vigil’s Keep who would care to stop the Templars from taking him.

“Mage?”

Anders sucked in a breath as he heard the knock on the door. Fenris. “Fenr—oof!” One of the Templars swung a fist into his stomach and knocked the air he’d just taken in right back out of his lungs.

“Maker’s breath, shut him up!”

“Mage!” There was no lock on the infirmary door but the Templars had wedged it shut. It didn’t stop Fenris though and a second later the door flew open with a loud _crack_.

The Templar Captain straightened his shoulders and moved forward to meet Fenris as he stalked into the room. "We are taking custody of the apostate. Leave, knife ear, of you’ll get yourself hurt!”

Anders wheezed out a miserable little sound. “Fen--Fenris…! Please.” He knew the elf’s feelings about mages were strong but this was his last hope. The Smite had left him weak and while his physical strength would return to him in a matter of minutes he would still be nearly defenseless until his mana was restored. And before that happened, the Templars would just smite him again. He knew they would, that’s what they always did.

Fenris’s gaze flickered to Anders then hardened as it turned to the Captain. “You will not have him. Release him and leave.”

Anders’s eyes widened as he watched as the two Templars who weren’t holding him up each drew their daggers. “I’m done playing nice. We didn’t want to cause any trouble but I don’t think anyone will care if there’s one less elf arou—Ahhh!”

Before he could finish, the impossible happened. Fenris’s tattoos lit up with a blinding blue light and he flew forward, closing the remaining distance between himself and the Templar in the blink of an eye, then plunged his bare hand straight into the man’s chest. The hands on Anders fell away as he and the other three Templars watched in shock as Fenris jerked his hand free again and Anders felt bile well up in his throat as he realized the elf was holding the Templar’s heart. Fenris’s nose scrunched up and he let the heart drop, the organ landing on the stone floor only a second before the body that so recently housed it did, the Templar dead before he hit the ground.

Anders recovered first, stumbling forward and away from his would-be captors. “Fenris!”

“Mage, run back to your room! I’ll provide you cover and catch up once I dispatch these fools.”

“Run he says, like he’s never been smote before…”

But Anders did as he was told and ran as quickly as he could for the door. The Templars' attention was now firmly on Fenris but while it gave him the distraction he needed it made that sick feeling return. Glancing back as he reached the door, he saw Fenris plunge his hand into another Templar turned Grey Warden’s chest and his own heart sunk. Fenris was burning the only bridge he had left at Anders's behest. Anders was done for but there was no reason he had to drag Fenris down with him. Elissa would still protect Fenris. She would, if he stopped killing now. There was nothing even she could do if Fenris killed more though.

With this thought in mind, Anders flung himself down the hall. He needed help but he couldn’t let Fenris be that help. He wouldn’t do that to him, not after everything that had happened to him in his past. Anders wouldn’t be a part of that.

But who else was there? Who else?

Wait.

Justice.

Gritting his teeth, Anders changed course. Justice would side with him and there was nothing to protect the spirit from. From behind him, he heard footsteps thundering down the hall and swore. At least two of the Templars had managed to get by Fenris which meant that he needed to hurry.

Luckily Justice was predictable and Anders knew exactly where he would be at this time of day: the Keep’s library.

Anders nearly fell into the room when he finally reached it. As he bowled through the door, he heard a clatter of armor and when he looked up Justice was at his side, a concerned blue light shining through Kristoff’s dead eyes. “Anders. You appear to be unwell.”

“Templars, in the infirmary. The new recruits…Maker,” Anders nearly threw himself at Justice, “I’m going to die. They’re going to kill me.” After what Fenris had done they likely would. Or if they didn’t kill him on the spot, Anders would wish he was dead by the time they got him back to the Circle.

For once, Justice needed no further explanation and righteous anger twisted his face into a frown. “I will not allow it. This injustice will no longer be tolerated. The Templars are in the wrong; you deserve freedom. All mages deserve freedom.”

Anders laughed, the sound tinged with hysterics. “You tell them that as they Smite me again and cut me down.”

“We shall tell them together. Anders,” reaching out, Justice gripped Anders’s shoulder in a gesture so human it nearly broke him down, “we could stop them. We could put an end to it all. No mage will ever again tremble in fear before a Templar.”

“How? Justice, how?”

Justice’s eyes blazed and Anders was drawn in; he needed that cold fire. “Together we would be powerful enough to achieve it. We could better the lives of all the mages in Thedas. No longer will they be locked away and suffer in fear. In pain. In darkness. They can have the rights granted to every other man. Nathaniel said that it might be possible, that a willing, living host might take me in. I have read much of your scholars’ work and, though it is lacking, I too believe it may be possible. Fate has brought this all together in this moment for a purpose. This is the time. This is when we can right the wrongs of your world.”

It was too hard to argue with that. This _was_ it. Something had to change. Something had to break. “Yes. Alright, yes!” Anders leaned forward and rested his own hand against Justice’s armored shoulder. “Let’s get you into a proper body, Justice.”

“You are certain?”

“Yes.” Anders released a shuddering breath and smiled. He could hear those footsteps growing closer. The Templars had found him. “What could possibly go wrong?”

 

“ _No!_ ”

Anders barely heard the shout from the door over the sound of the ringing in his ears but somehow it managed to pierce through. It brought him back enough to himself that he realized something was not right. His hands…Anders looked down at his hands and frowned at the blue lightning skipping across his skin, his veins glowing and flesh cracking in long fissures. And blood. There was blood on his hands, dripping from his fingers. His frown deepened and he looked up again and saw bodies, parts of bodies strewn in front of him.

What…?

What had happened?

Shock rippled through Anders and he crumpled to the ground. But before his head slammed against the stone, hands wrapped around him. But it wasn’t like before. These hands lowered him slowly to the ground instead of letting him fall. He blinked up and was met with the sight of Fenris’s devastated face hovering above his.

“Anders! What did you do, you fool mage? What have you done?” Fenris grabbed his hand and Anders realized that the cracks in his skin had disappeared. He could breathe again. “You are just like the rest! Given a choice, you will hand yourself over to the first demon who tempts you!”

Swallowing, Anders tried to speak. “I-is now…the ap-propriate time…for a lecture?” He felt like he was dying, like there were a thousand bells ringing between his ears and his head was about to explode. He was probably dying.

Fenris gripped him tighter. “I would have protected you!”

“You didn’t deserve…any of it. It would’ve been…unjust. Ah—!” Anders’s voice dropped and he felt _something_ well up inside him, pushing him nearly into unconsciousness as a blinding haze covered his eyes.

Fenris hissed then Anders gasped as the elf hauled him up into his arms. “Hold on. I have you.” His voice was now softer than he’d ever heard it.

Anders didn’t make a conscious decision to do so but his body curled up as much as he could around Fenris. “…You’re singing…” That wasn’t his voice. But it came from his lips.

“Hush, mage. You’re not in your right mind.”

Anders fell unconscious after that, only catching flashes of reality as he alternating between the sensations of floating and falling, burning and freezing, numbness and pain.

A glimpse of the courtyard, then the door to the stables. A cat’s _meow_ , a sharp screech. A gust of wind and then…nothing.

 

“Easy.”

“Fenris? Ugh…Andraste’s flaming knickers, my head hurts…” Anders winced, his voice feeling raw in his throat and all his limbs were aching. And his head. His head, “It’s like I can…I can…Maker…”

“Mage?” Anders forced his eyes open and saw Fenris leaning over him, his expression tense but eyes concerned.

_The singing elf worries for you. You have been asleep for a long time._

Anders gasped and his own eyes went wide. “Justice. I, I can hear him—” Oh Maker. He remembered.

A scowl replaced Fenris’s concern and he gripped Anders’s chin, forcing him to maintain eye contact. “Don’t listen.”

“Those men…I killed those men…!”

“Not without reason. You were defending yourself.”

“Then you…You.” Anders swallowed as he remembered Fenris plunging his hand into that Templar’s chest. “What…? How did you…?”

Sighing, Fenris released Anders’s chin and sat back. It was then that Anders noticed that he was lying on the ground on a bed of ratty blankets. The small room around them was unfamiliar, roughly-hewn from wood with holes in the sides that was letting in snow. Snow? Fenris’s voice recaptured his attention and he looked back at the elf to see him running his fingers over his tattoos. “What you saw were the abilities granted to me by the lyrium.”

“Ah.” Anders didn’t entirely understand how Fenris had managed such a feat still but now it made sense why it was a mystery. Who knows what embedding lyrium into someone’s flesh would allow them to do? His gaze moved back to the walls beyond Fenris. Rolling over, he saw an old hearth with a small fire burning inside, started by Fenris no doubt. There was a familiar orange ball of fluff curled up in front of it and Anders’s heart softened. “Where are we?” Wherever it was, Fenris had cared enough to bring Ser Pounce-a-Lot with him.

Fenris cleared his throat and joined Anders in looking around. “I can’t be sure. Ferelden I think, somewhere in the Frostback Mountains. I…borrowed your griffon to make our escape and asked it to take us somewhere safe. Your beast brought us here. The village seems to be abandoned but has served its purpose.”

Anders nodded and lay back. “And…why are you here? I was sure you wouldn’t want a thing to do with me after I…”

“After you became an abomination.” Anders flinched as Fenris finished his sentence but before he could defend himself Fenris continued to speak. “Because somehow you survived it. And you didn’t deserve to be abandoned.”

“We can’t stay here.” If the village was truly abandoned, they would likely starve in a location so remote. “And after what I’ve done, I can’t go back to the Wardens…”

Fenris raised a brow. “Where do you propose we go instead? There are few places that would welcome either of us, much less the both of us combined.”

“We?”

Anders met Fenris’s gaze again and found the elf smirking down at him. “Did I stutter, mage? You clearly cannot be trusted to care for yourself.”

“And you’re to be my keeper?”

Fenris shrugged. “I have practice in watching over mages. Though no experience in being able to choose to do so on my own free will, so that aspect will be new to me.”

“Well,” Anders swallowed, “this is the first time I will choose to have a ‘keeper’, so at least we’re on equal footing. But you’re better than a Templar, I suppose.” They fell silent, merely looking at each other for a long moment, before Anders tilted his head back. “How do you feel about the Free Marches? I have a friend in Kirkwall’s Circle who I’ve been meaning to check up on for a while.”

Fenris looked thoughtful then grinned. “Danarius owns property in Kirkwall. But perhaps it is time that I pay him a visit as well.”


End file.
